


En Route

by markerlimes (sunmi)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Pre-Canon, Public Transportation, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunmi/pseuds/markerlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pre-debut era- chanyeol makes kyungsoo growl<br/>(alternatively chansoo play wrestle and get accidental boners which they resolve by dry-humping one another on a public transport system...yes)</p><p>warnings: mild exhibitionism (semi-public sex in unsanitary spaces), frotting</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Route

 

 

 

The wall of clouds and perfectly blue skies is a lie.

It’s actually a curtain, which in Chanyeol’s opinion doesn’t make it any less painful to look at after 6 hours or so.

“It gets easier after awhile,” Joonmyun insists, having spent six years staring at said curtain. Chanyeol himself having paid almost four years into the SM bank and figures he can probably last at least a few more.

But by the eighth re-run of their debut title track, the clouds on the curtain feel permanently carved into the retinas of his eyes. The flashes of white and blue in combination with the Gregorian chanting give the whole room an odd, cultish vibe. It isn’t too far from the truth, but it’s still disorienting as fuck and the heat doesn’t help in the least.

Today is one of those rare days where all twelve of them are together for practice, even though the debut is planned for their separate sub-units.

Taking into account their inability to even execute the choreography as six, Chanyeol thinks wryly, it’s nothing more than an exercise in humbling for those less versed in dance. On the positive side, both Kris and Jongdae will have to suffer along with him, and their company in the presence of Jongin and Yixing makes all the difference in Chanyeol’s opinion.

Still, cramming an extra six living, breathing, and heat-exuding bodies into the small room makes it more unbearable than usual. Chanyeol closes his eyes briefly mid-run, trying to imagine a cool breeze to combat the suffocating space, which causes him to stumble. He crashes into Kris, eliciting a curse in Chinese and all but knocks Jongdae- who was sprinting across the floor to get in position to nail his high note- to the floor.

“Dammit Chanyeol,” Jongdae curses, hand clutching at his shoulder in pain. He shoves past him, trying to get back into the dance routine nevertheless. In front of him, Chanyeol sees Baekhyun let out a snicker in the reflection of the mirror, and he shrugs in reply, mouthing a soundless 'CARELESS CARELESS' back. Baekhyun laughs into his sleeve, passing it off as a sexy lip swipe. The dance instructors are less than impressed though, pausing the track instantly.

Jongin freezes, caught in the middle of his dramatic ‘MAMA possession dance’ as Baekhyun calls it. His shoulders sag and Chanyeol feels a twinge of guilt as he looks back sleepily, completely drained. In front of him, Sehun groans, shooting a dirty look back at Chanyeol and scowling even more as Joonmyun starts passing back water bottles. Ahead, Yixing shuffles his feet to the beat of silence, still very much in his own world until Lu Han gives his shoulder a slight shake.

“Oww,” Chanyeol complains as Jongdae takes the brief break to elbow him in the ribs in exchange for his shoulder from earlier. The sharp jab of bones is countered by the soft coolness of something being pressed against the back of his neck.

Chanyeol turns around and then remembers to look slightly down. Kyungsoo’s wry smile is a pleasant relief from the onslaught of cloudy skies. “Stay on your feet.”

The instructor gives them all a half sympathetic, half disappointed look.

“Again.”

 

***

 

By the end of the night, even the negatives of the cloud curtains are imprinted on the back of his eyelids. The effect is somehow even trippier and Chanyeol tries not to sway on his feet as he slides a damp towel over his face to collect sweat. He and Kyungsoo are the only ones left in the practice room as the clock hits a quarter past 11- Chanyeol for being lackluster at practice today and Kyungsoo simply because it was unlikely that he would ever leave Chanyeol to suffer alone.

“You can go, you know,” Chanyeol groans, words muffled against the damp cloth. He slides the wet towel down some to wipe at the sweat beading on his neck. It’s more of a soothing gesture than an actually helpful one, since the towel has long since lost its cooling properties.

“And not be here to watch you suffer?” Kyungsoo replies idly, stifling a yawn. “Just hurry up and get the spin right. The trains stop at midnight, remember?”

Taking another mournful look at the clock, Chanyeol sways onto his feet slowly- the stickiness of his shirt beginning to itch. He stretches out his arms despite his protesting muscles. Before he can convince himself to sit back down and go home, Chanyeol slaps the towel on the side bench where Kyungsoo is sitting and flips the stereo back on. The mixture of Gregorian chanting pounds in his ears once again and he forces himself into position.

It’s hard enough for Chanyeol to focus in the heat, and the late hour compounds his weariness. He goes through the motions mindlessly, stopping when he hears Kyungsoo let out an undignified snort.

Chanyeol flushes immediately when he realizes that he’s dancing the choreography for the first verse instead of the second. He whirls around to glare at the shorter boy, scuffing his sneaker against the laminated floor. Kyungsoo shrugs back, shooting Chanyeol a decidedly unimpressed look. By then, the song has lapsed into Jongin’s ear-wracking screamo section and Chanyeol stares dejectedly at the booming stereo.

“You could stand to be a little more supportive,” he mumbles, pulling at the front of shirt to let some air in. It flaps half-heartedly, soaked with sweat and sticking uncomfortably to his chest. The heat in the room is suffocating, and Chanyeol sinks back to the floor in despair as the final chorus of MAMA continues without him.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Kyungsoo shoots back, uncrossing his legs to slide down the bench to poke Chanyeol‘s back with a sneaker. He peers cautiously down at the floor. Chanyeol lies motionless and Kyungsoo prods him again, this time with a little more force.

An arm shoots out grabbing his ankle, and Chanyeol’s laughter meets his surprised yelp as his bottom hits the floor with a resounding smack. The bench isn’t that far from the floor, but it’s still enough for it to hurt when Kyungsoo falls,-back slamming into the side of the bench.

He looks up from the ground, ass smarting from the wood floor and frowns. Chanyeol’s Cheshire cat grin fills his vision from above and Kyungsoo instinctively kicks out at him.

Having seen Kyungsoo and Sehun’s interactions (albeit from afar) in the past, Chanyeol sees it coming and blocks it by forcing his knee down. For a brief moment, Kyungsoo just glares at him, before proceeding to kick with his other foot- landing a rather hard blow on Chanyeol’s thigh.

“What the hell man?” Chanyeol gasps, eyes stinging. “I still have to dance.” The haughty smile on Kyungsoo’s face drops for a split second and that’s when Chanyeol pounces.

He grabs Kyungsoo’s other leg and forces them together so he can sit on them. Chanyeol isn’t much more than four gangly limbs on a good day, but it’s enough to keep someone the size of Kyungsoo pinned beneath him. Almost immediately, Kyungsoo responds by lashing out an arm which misses Chanyeol’s face by about half a foot.

“Awww,” Chanyeol mock coos, “your arm doesn’t even-”

His jibe is cut short when Kyungsoo grabs him by the collar instead to bring him down to the floor as well, smacking his head unapologetically against the floor. Chanyeol’s teeth click together upon impact with his unlucky tongue wedged between them. He bites through the pain though, retaliating in equal measure by rolling over Kyungsoo to grab him in a sloppy headlock.

Kyungsoo’s elbow finds his stomach and jerks out helplessly as Chanyeol tightens his grip.

“Ready to beg for mercy?” Chanyeol laughs darkly and Kyungsoo looks angry enough to spit. On any other day, Chanyeol might have been the one begging for mercy at the sight of a pissed Kyungsoo, but just for today, he’s got Kyungsoo right where he wants him and he’s gonna have a little fun while he’s at it. Using his unoccupied hand, Chanyeol traces it up Kyungsoo’s exposed side, fingertips digging into ticklish spots.

The effect is immediate.

Kyungsoo’s face flushes under the combined effort of stifling laughter and pulling Chanyeol off. After a moment’s struggle, he tries to squirm away, but only succeeds in reversing their positions so that Chanyeol is on top once again- his chest pressing down against Kyungsoo’s back into the floor with his full weight.

“You’re so goddamn heavy,” Kyungsoo seethes and Chanyeol can picture his face red with exertion, teeth gritted in frustration: Feral and angry.

He lets out a hearty chuckle, shaking Kyungsoo like a puppy by the scruff just because he can, when Kyungsoo decides to buck up suddenly- pressing his back into Chanyeol’s chest and aligning their bottom halves in all the right ways. The sound of their shoes scuffling on the wooden floor is loud enough to mask Chanyeol’s gasp when Kyungsoo does it again.

“Get. Off. Me.” Kyungsoo punctuates with each thrust, and Chanyeol can’t find the words to reply, brain short-circuited by friction and an even sweeter heat pooling in his groin.

This is bad.

Bad in a way that it’s really all that Chanyeol has ever wanted since laying eyes on Do Kyungsoo months ago when he first joined SM, expressive eyes and soft voice worming his way somewhat violently into Chanyeol’s life. There’s really never been a question that Chanyeol has wanted him, but it’s surprising even to himself how _badly_ he wants Kyungsoo. Wants to press warm kisses into his neck and eat his home cooked kimchi spaghetti. Wants to be the one to hold him tight, slip a dick between his plush, inviting lips and maybe even hold his hand.

Beneath him, Kyungsoo continues to squirm, oblivious to Chanyeol’s impending life crisis. His shirt rides up with every movement, exposing his back and the top of his boxers. The sliver of skin presses against Chanyeol’s hand still digging into Kyungsoo’s ticklish spots and it’s suddenly scalding.

He freezes, grip going lax and Kyungsoo bursts free, rolling out from underneath him, teeth still bared.

Chanyeol turns around quickly, smoothing his bunched up shirt down to cover the top of his sweats. Desperate, he thinks of his grandmother, his arthritic grade school teacher who had no front teeth, anything to distract him from the feeling of Kyungsoo bucking up against him. Small, firm thighs rubbing against his own lanky ones with only two painfully thin pieces of sweat pants between them.

Flashes of Kyungsoo pinned under him, hands covering wrists and slamming them down. Kyungsoo’s thighs trembling as if he couldn’t help himself, breaths heaving in exertion under Chanyeol’s weight.

He swallows and digs his palms into his eyes.

The picture of Kyungsoo slotted beneath him perfectly, caged between Chanyeol’s bowed legs and wiry arms.

“Fuck,” he breaths out, palms sweating furiously. He turns completely away from the other boy, disguising his discomfort as simply checking the time. Kyungsoo can’t know, and Chanyeol pours every ounce of his willpower into softening his boner.

“It’s getting late,” he huffs out, color still high on his cheeks. Kyungsoo peers at him oddly, fingers uncurled at his side. “Let’s go.”

He grabs his bag off the bench and heads towards the door, waiting in the hallway for Kyungsoo to finish packing. The air outside is much cooler, and Chanyeol wipes at the back of his neck, feeling his fingers come away wet. Even though he knows it’s only sweat, it doesn’t stop the wave of chills down his neck.

His immediate problem is gone, but the images stay; seared into his mind even deeper than the fake clouds.

 

***

 

They manage to catch the last train past Apgujeong, shuffling on in the nick of time.

At this hour, the train is mostly empty and given their current state of dishevelment, Kyungsoo decidedly leads them to an empty compartment. For one, it’s bad enough to know that you smell after a long day of work outs, but to see other people confirming it with disdainful glances is another embarrassment in itself.

Chanyeol plops down on the nearest seat by the entrance, unable to walk any further. Kyungsoo gives him a pitying stare, but sits down quietly beside him nevertheless. Their proximity should be unnerving, but if anything Chanyeol is glad that Kyungsoo is oblivious to his strange actions. If he does notice anything off, he makes no notion of it.

Normally the two of them spend the train ride home scrolling through Chanyeol’s expansive collection of music. Kyungsoo will tease him about his giant mancrush on Beenzino and Chanyeol never has to dig far for a counterargument, by citing Justin Bieber as Kyungsoo’s favorite artist

But today Kyungsoo doesn’t say much, feigning interest in the frayed ends of his hoodie strings. He tugs at them absentmindedly with his fingers, seemingly unperturbed by the silence between them.

In the crappy lighting, Chanyeol sees something faintly marked on Kyungsoo’s wrist. He squints. Mottled and dark, it takes Chanyeol a second to realize that it’s a bruise.

A bruise from _him._

His mouth feels dry as he takes in the faint purple mark coming into focus on Kyungsoo’s wrist, and a quick glance at the other arm reveals a matching mark. Chanyeol hadn’t even been that rough, but the idea that Kyungsoo will walk into the SM building tomorrow for practice with bruises lined on his neck and wrists is enough to catch Chanyeol’s breath.

He angles his head away, trying not to stare at Kyungsoo’s neck, partly afraid of what he would actually find there.

Kyungsoo follows his stare and rolls his sleeve down self consciously. His eyes flash up quickly, narrowing as he sees Chanyeol’s open mouth.

“What,” he grumbles, preparing to roll down his other sleeve when Chanyeol catches his arm.

“You bruise easily then huh,” Chanyeol smirks and Kyungsoo bristles like a cat.

“It’s not a big deal,” he replies curtly, shrugging off Chanyeol’s fingers, and it’s too easy to picture what Chanyeol should do next. He digs his fingers back in, making sure to press right along the edge of the purple mark. Kyungsoo yelps out in pain, eyes flashing in surprise.

“Not a big deal, huh?” he asks, eyes dark and Kyungsoo snaps his wrist back.

His eyes are large, a little shocked but now layered with something Chanyeol can’t read. “What are you doing?”

Before he can help himself, Chanyeol pictures himself pressing Kyungsoo into the metal rail of the subway seat: Hard enough to make a new set of bruises along his back. Hard enough to make him breathless and wheezing, until he comes apart beneath Chanyeol.

He stands up suddenly, afraid that Kyungsoo will see through him and more importantly, see the undeniable tenting in his pants.

“I’m just tired. Sorry,” he blurts out. He grabs his bag to move to the other side of the train when he’s yanked back. Chanyeol loses his balance, arm catching onto the parallel bar to steady himself.

Kyungsoo rises to his feet as well, a mere arm length away- close enough for Chanyeol to see the weariness in his eyes. His fingers are caught in the material of Chanyeol’s shirt, reeling him back in to every nightmarish wet dream of the past month.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says softly and Chanyeol has never been good at denying him anything. “Look at me.”

He turns slowly towards the other boy, eyes trained to the floor. The train takes a sharp turn so that Chanyeol sways unsteadily as Kyungsoo peers at him carefully, and then suddenly Kyungsoo yanks at the material of Chanyeol’s shirt again until Chanyeol is crashing into him.

The movement of the subway pulls him off balance, the full weight of him rocking into Kyungsoo and forcing the breath out of his lungs. It sends them sprawling into the seats with Kyungsoo landing on his ass for a second time that day and Chanyeol on his knees, practically straddling him.

“Are you?” Kyungsoo hisses sharply, a vibrant flush across his features and Chanyeol looks down horrified. The tent in his sweatpants is in full force now, dipping down to brush against Kyungsoo’s navel with every sway of the compartment. Chanyeol pulls away from him quickly, shifting back, but the damage is already done. “I can explain, I promise. This isn’t-”

Kyungsoo’s eyes are glazed over, and that’s when Chanyeol feels it too.

_“Oh...”_

It’s unmistakable, hot and hard again Chanyeol’s hipbone. Or at least it is until Kyungsoo shifts to the side, pressing his dick against the inside of Chanyeol’s thigh. The material of the sweat pants is so wonderfully thin that he feels everything, from the soft brush of cotton to the heated flesh behind it.

Kyungsoo looks as alarmed as Chanyeol feels and immediately tries to push him off. Chanyeol refuses to budge, pushing Kyungsoo’s arms back down against the edge of the metal railing, hands wrapped around his bruised wrists.

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo hisses, uncomfortably flushed and hard against Chanyeol’s thigh. “We’re. In. Public.”

Chanyeol makes a show of looking around. There’s absolutely no one in their compartment and even better, the old man in the neighboring one is very obviously asleep- face pressed against the glass. He leans down, almost close enough to feel the heat radiating off of Kyungsoo’s cheeks. “Does it really matter?”

Kyungsoo frowns clearly unimpressed, muttering, “But there are cameras here.”

Any reservations Chanyeol holds melts away when Kyungsoo cranes his neck to look around him, revealing a dash of fresh bruises behind his collar. Without thinking, he cups the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, blunt nails tracing over the newly rising marks, still pink and puffy.

Kyungsoo jolts up, grinding up against him, and the two of them freeze. Chanyeol holds his breath, but Kyungsoo doesn’t push him off. Instead he looks up at Chanyeol, eyes dark and mouth slightly open. Almost cautiously, Chanyeol pushes his hips down.

Kyungsoo gasps like he’s been shocked and Chanyeol repeats the action until they build up a desperate rhythm, grinding up against each other. Chanyeol lets out a breathy moan as Kyungsoo tilts his head back to look up at Chanyeol, eyes unfocused.

The ring of bruises around his neck is prominent even in the shallow lighting- bold purple and dim blues mottled together- and his voice sounds wrecked, although Chanyeol knows deep down that Kyungsoo will always be too proud to beg. “Faster, goddammit. Come on.”

He rocks into Kyungsoo harder as the train approaches the next station, pulling him closer to his chest to cover him from the entrance. Kyungsoo squirms, clearly uncomfortable by their lack of privacy.

“There’s no one here,” Chanyeol pants, twisting around to look at the empty platform. Beneath him Kyungsoo ducks his head, panting heavily against Chanyeol’s chest. It’s clear that Kyungsoo is beyond mortified at what they’re doing, but unable to stop because the friction between them just feels so, _so good_.

He slides a hand through Kyungsoo’s hair, pulling him up for a kiss. It’s sloppy and misaimed. Chanyeol’s lips are too high and their angle too awkward. Yet somehow it’s the hottest kiss in his life, compounded by the fact that practically anyone could see them. The glass of the train doors hides nothing and if anyone were to enter the compartment there would be nothing other than Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to notice.

They’re not exactly unknown anymore, with the first of Jongin’s many teasers out already and the entire industry buzzing about SM’s newest boy band. It’s only a matter of time until they have to start being wary of their image; learning to wear large sunglasses and dark baggy clothing to hide from the onslaught of saesangs and their cameras.

The danger and thrill of it all thrums in Chanyeol’s veins, and it makes him even harder as he presses down against Kyungsoo, who cries out into Chanyeol’s shirt to muffle the sound.

The train jostles again, departing from the station- the motion sending them sideways into the bench. Chanyeol catches the back of Kyungsoo’s head before it bangs against the edge and feels his hand go numb from the impact.

The shift in positions has Kyungsoo almost flat against the bench now with Chanyeol above him, their legs tangled in each other's. Kyungsoo’s thighs wrap around one of Chanyeol’s and he presses up insistently letting out breathy moans.

“How,” he gasps out, fingers tangled in Chanyeol’s shirt. “How many more stations?”

Chanyeol doesn’t answer him, choosing to focus instead on multitasking between balancing on the bench and keeping his hips pressed against Kyungsoo’s. His hips stutter and the stimulation is almost as painful as it is pleasurable with how tight their pants are straining.

The cotton bunched up around his dick, feels suffocating as it soaks up the leaking precum- the overall sensation alternating between soft and wet and the hardness of Kyungsoo’s own erection. Chanyeol keeps the senseless roll of his hips tight, faster and faster until Kyungsoo pulls sharply at his hair. The curly strands catch in his fingers as he yanks viciously, pulling Chanyeol up past his lips.

“Fuuck,” Kyungsoo gasps, eyes falling shut as his body trembles. “Fuck. Fuck fuck.”

He comes hard, coating the inside of his pants as Chanyeol rocks him through his orgasm- grinding down hard until Kyungsoo is boneless, plaint and wet beneath him.

He can’t stop staring as Kyungsoo arches up slightly, neck pulled taught and shaking- moaning against Chanyeol’s shirt pressed up by his mouth, a desperate sound that makes Chanyeol’s legs shake. It leaves a damp spot with strands of saliva trailing back to his lips, right up against Chanyeol’s heart.

Kyungsoo curls in on himself, face aflame, but Chanyeol pulls him back down in place with a solid grip. He ruts up against Kyungsoo even harder now, feeling the warm wetness of come spreading through Kyungsoo’s pants onto his own. He  slides a hand down to palm Kyungsoo’s dick roughly, feeling unbelievably turned on as his hand comes away damp.

“You fucking soaked through it,” he groans, voice deep and choked off. “God you’re so wet now. Look at you.”

Chanyeol pushes down with his hand, fondling Kyungsoo through the dirty cotton as Kyungsoo cries out, still sensitive and over stimulated, and it doesn’t take long for Chanyeol to follow him, coming with a strangled shout as he buries his teeth into Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

It’s not strong enough to draw blood, but plenty enough to hurt as Kyungsoo swats at him with a pained sound. There'll be marks there in the morning for sure, dark and puffy to match the indents of Chanyeol's teeth.

“You’re really heavy,” Kyungsoo mumbles tiredly, pushing lightly against Chanyeol’s shoulder when the aftershocks of his orgasm subside. Blearily, Chanyeol pushes himself to a sitting position, still half strewn over Kyungsoo’s legs.

“Umm, wow.” Chanyeol adds helpfully, eyes glued to the still spreading stain on Kyungsoo’s pants. Kyungsoo stares pointedly back at Chanyeol’s own stained pants. “This is.” he starts, feeling the warm stickiness trailing across his groin in full effect now. “This is new.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, too tired to even scoff.

The train finally comes to a stop at their station and Chanyeol gets to his legs gingerly, feeling the warm slide of come down his pant leg. It’s thoroughly disgusting, yet oddly pleasant- a sensation that makes him lightheaded and giddy.

Kyungsoo stumbles out after him, legs unsteady. He takes a cautious look left and then right, his bag strategically placed to cover the maximum surface area of his crotch from sight. Chanyeol slings an arm over him, a natural reaction that sends shivers down both their backs now.

“Can I walk you home?” Chanyeol asks teasingly, leaning down to mouth hotly against his ear. Kyungsoo shrugs him off by ducking his head, but links his fingers with Chanyeol’s anyways.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m walking home looking like this,” he says leading Chanyeol to the nearest restroom in the station. “You’re also crazy if you think I’m bringing you home even before we have a proper first date.”

He laughs as Chanyeol splutters by the sink. “You can’t leave me here. Kyungsoo-yah.”

Kyungsoo digs into his bag, pulling a pair of spare pants out. “You’re right,” he says diplomatically, like they hadn’t just gotten each other off by dry humping like rabbits in a public subway moments ago. “Kris hyung’s Korean is still awful.”

Chanyeol just stares at him. “You’re heartless.”

“Careless. Careless.” Kyungsoo chants back to him from the stall where he’s changing, and Chanyeol lets out a laugh in spite of himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry for ruining what was such great material. For j unnir who constantly gives me chansoo feels, stop it. also, many thanks to e who made me revamp the porn and who i owe all the dirty talk to.
> 
> Based off of Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s very close pre-debut relationship where they would apparently wrestle (read: dry hump) with one another with Chanyeol being particularly rough which resulted in Kyungsoo feeling like he “visited heaven for a bit”
> 
> I solemnly swear to tell no lies.
> 
> originally posted on lj @ http://markerlimes.livejournal.com/515.html


End file.
